


Dust to Dust

by Eunoria



Category: Undertale
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Death, Depression, Happy ending? Maybe maybe not, M/M, NSFW, Reference suicide attempt, Self-Loathing, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tragedy with a happy ending, Undertail, future fluff, more tags as story progresses, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:59:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eunoria/pseuds/Eunoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which UF!sans teleports into Underswap universe and it's not what he expects.</p><p>I am absolutely terrible with summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brothers

‘Hey Pappy!’

  
'What is it, Sans?’

  
'You gonna to sleep without dinner?’

  
He watched the Papyrus in the screen stretched and audibly yawned, 'is it that time already?’

  
'Of course it is, sleepyhead! Now get up.’  
He watched as Papyrus got up out of bed and followed the little blue ball of energy into the kitchen.

  
He mesmerized their routine by now; the younger boisterous brother would wake the older up, together they would head out and recalibrate the puzzles they set out, then they would split guard duties. The older skeleton would cater to his illegal hotcat stand while the younger would patrol the area. Then, after their shift was over, the older would head to 'Muffet’s’ while the younger would head home and make tacos. In the end of the day, the older would read the younger a bedtime story and head off to bed himself.

  
Sans watched this happen through the screen many times, bright red pupils fixed on the happy vibrant life playing before his eyes.

  
When he first came upon the small screen in the lab at the back of his house, he couldn’t believe his eyes. An almost identical underground where all the monsters were good and kind to one another? It was almost laughable! He thought that old Wing Ding must have played some kind of distasteful prank before he went off and killed himself.

But after a while of watching, he realized that this was live footage since the times they worked and slept directly correlated to his own.

  
He rested his chin on his crossed arms, red pupils still glued to the screen. From the moment he began watching, he felt drawn to the footage. The brothers seemed so naive and happy in their own little world, so different from his scarred and fucked up one. Soon, he came to the lab at every opportunity just to watch the brothers eat lunch together or get Muffet’s or read bedtime stories together.

  
He knew if his brother found out, he would be furious, but so far, Sans managed to keep his viewing secret from him.

  
'Brother!’ The younger began one of his lengthy tirades-

  
“SANS!”

  
Sans visibly flinched. Even through thick walls, his brother’s angry shout could be heard. Quickly and silently, he teleported to his room just as his bedroom door slammed open. His brother glared down at him, looking much more haggard than usual, battle body torn and cracked in places. Sans swallowed down his concern. He’d had enough beatings to know not to voice his worries.

  
Instead, he stared up at his younger, taller brother, quivering in his shoes, “Yeah, b-boss?”

  
The other regarded him with cold eyes, “undress.”

  
Instantly, fear increased tenfold as he froze in place, “b-boss-”

  
“Did I tell you to speak?” There was a warning in that tone, something that snapped Sans’ mouth shut.

  
With shaking phalanges, he began stripping down. He shivered as he felt cold air breath down on his exposed bones. But it was a temporary problem as two clawed hands pushed him down onto his hard mattress. He stayed silent, staring at the stained walls of his room.

The other Sans didn’t have stained walls or dirty mattresses. All his walls were pristine and his bed looked soft and comfortable.

  
Brother, the other Sans had said. Sans hadn’t called his own brother that in such a long time. In fact, he hadn’t called his brother anything but boss in forever. He just wasn’t allowed to.

  
What does it mean to be a brother? To be related by blood? To have someone to talk to or confide in? To protect-

  
His breath hitched as he felt his brother slide inside him. The first time this happened, he had begged Papyrus to stop until his voice gave out. His pleas only served to exasperate his brother and he was given a severe beating afterwards. So he learned to stay quiet, only letting out a sob occasionally when the pressure grew too great. This is what he deserved for being a failure, a complete waste of space. Papyrus was good to him, always protecting him, and Sans had nothing to give in return but his service.

  
He must have blacked out because, by the time he came to, he was alone in his room, naked on the bare mattress. He tentatively sat up, wincing whenever he sat on a newly acquired crack or bruise.

  
After cleaning himself off to the best of his ability, he put on some shorts and a t-shirt and quietly teleported back into the lab. He gingerly sat down in front of the small screen and watched the other Papyrus tuck in the other Sans into bed, 'what do you want to listen to this time, Sans?’

  
'Ooo! Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny!’

  
Sans stared at the screen with a ghost of a smile. That had been his Papyrus’ favorite book when he was younger. Now…

  
'Ok, well here it goes, there once was a fluffy bunny…’

  
Sans felt his eyes droop as his brother’s copy lulled his copy to sleep.


	2. Dust

Sans sat in his sentry station, watching the hours tick by. His brother was away on a conference with Undyne. This meant longer patrol hours and heavier beatings. He wasn’t looking forward to coming home.

Sans rested his head on his crossed arms. He never understood why there was a need for guard duty in active locations when there were cameras stationed everywhere. Besides, humans were rare and far between and monsters weren’t stupid enough to cross the Royal Guard. Those that do always tend to die in horrible ways.

He watched the leaves rustle in the adjacent tree for the 500th time. Fuck it. He teleported back into the lab. He gave the skeletons on the screen a passing glance as he drew away a cloth from a large machine. Another parting gift from his old lab partner.

He didn’t know exactly what it did, but from the blueprints, he could guess that it was some kind of teleportation device. Or at least, he thought it was. He most certainly did not want to ask anyone about it, least of all, Alphys, the current Royal Scientist. He tried to avoid the sadistic lizard at all costs.

He didn’t know why he was working on it, after all, he had the ability to teleport. However, he felt compelled to complete it, to work with his hands as the screen played in the background.

Time passed quickly as he immersed himself in the eccentricities of wires and circuit boards. He had tinkered on the machine for a little over a year, yet he couldn’t seem to get it to- a low hum began to reverberate throughout the room. He jumped back as the old machine seemed to come to life.

He let out a shaky laugh. He did it! He finally- a bright blitz of light blinded him and he covered his eyes. Suddenly, pain permeated though his body like a lightning strike. It was same sensation as teleporting but, instead of an immediate transportation, he felt like his individual molecules were slowly disappearing piece by piece. He screamed. Maybe he wasn’t going to live through this. Maybe he was going to die. He wondered if his brother would look for him. He wondered if his brother would even care.

* * *

 

He jolts awake, eyes bulging, hand clenching his chest. He was covered in something cold, snow? He was breathing rapidly, too rapidly, sweating buckets. It was one of his panic attacks, something he did not welcome at the moment. He wrapped his arms around himself, and willed his breathing to calm down.

  
Once his breathing normalized, he realized that he was not covered in snow, but _dust_. Panic seared through him with greater intensity and he struggled to calm himself. With shaky phalanges, he checked his HP.

  
0.56/1

  
He huffed a small sign of relief. He wasn’t dusting. That begged the question though. Who bit the dust?

  
He looked around the snowy landscape. Looks like he was still in Snowdin. Perhaps Grillby’s was open. The least he could do was get something to eat and increase his HP back to his usual levels. He stood gingerly, wary of the pain that still racked his sore and abused body. Pain wasn’t an unusual feeling. He had suffered through worse and was able to walk it off.

  
He began heading down the familiar road. It was eerily quiet. He knew that monsters tend not to linger in the outside where the roads were dangerous, but there was literally no monster in sight. At least a few of them would hang outside-  
He stopped, eyes growing wide. Muffet’s he read in bright neon letters. Before his mind could register what was going on, his feet scampered across the snowy landscape, soul racing in his rib cage. This couldn’t be happening- There was no way-

  
He appeared before the house, their house. It looked almost identical to his home. Almost. He’d seen it a million times in the monitor screen to identify the small differences, the vibrant neon lights the sprinkled the roof, the uncracked windows and bricks. He was here. He was actually _here_.

  
He raised his hand to knock when he stopped himself. What was he doing? What did he expect when the other skeletons answered the door? A smile and an invitation inside? Who was he kidding? He didn’t belong here. Besides, why would they take him, a useless piece of trash, into their home?

  
Suddenly, he didn’t want to be here anymore. he stumbled away from the house and began running. He didn’t care where just anywhere away from-  
He stopped still in his tracks.

  
In the fog of snow, there was a figure, kneeling in the snow. He could swear he heard something akin to _sobbing_. He tentatively walked closer.

  
When he was all but a few feet away, a bright orange hoodie caught his eye.

Papyrus? Not his Papyrus of course, but the other one, the one from the screen. Papyrus was holding a bundle of clothing covered in dust. Then he recognized the small blue scarf. It had belonged to the other Sans- he had been so absorbed in thought that he didn’t noticed the branch until he stepped on it with a loud _crack_.

  
Faster than he could blink, the other Papyrus was on him, one hand wrapped around his neck, the other clutching the small dusty blue scarf, orange fire burning in his left eye.

  
Sans went still, fear stopping his soul and non-existent lungs. He’d never seen Papyrus so furious.

  
He was beginning to feel light headed as Papyrus’ eyes widened a fraction and the fire died out. With the fire gone, he realized that there were bright orange tears streaming down Papyrus’ face.

  
“Sans?”


	3. Pastries

In his deepest darkest subconscious, he had dreamed of coming to this world, of joining the brothers and the bright, vibrant life they lived. This… This was not what he imagined.

He struggled out of Papyrus’ grip and ran.

He didn’t run far when he crashed into something soft and lanky, two skeletal arms wrapping around him, trapping him.

“Get the fuck off of me!” He yelled, soul catching in his throat. He tried the shove the other off, but he had been weakened greatly during the teleportation and Papyrus’ grip was too strong.

Suddenly, a familiar gut-wrenching sensation came over him as he and the other Papyrus transported to a dark room.

Finally, taller skeleton let him go. He scampered backwards away from the other until his back hit the wall. Now that he was out of the other’s grasp, he could examine the other Papyrus closely. He was tall, as tall as Sans’ Papyrus, but in the darkness of the room, he seemed to loom over him. He wore a faded orange hoodie and cargo pants, both of which were covered in dust. He still held the small blue dusty scarf tightly in his fist.

“Sans?” The Papyrus repeated in a low shaky voice.

Before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky laugh, “I’m, uh, n-not your Sans. He got d-dusted huh? H-heh, always t-thought he was a weakling-”

He felt a fist connect with his skull so hard, that he hit the floor before he knew how to react. Reflexively, he curled into himself, whimpering.

Papyrus grabbed him by the collar and picked him off the ground, “don’t you ever fucking talk about my brother like that again.”

Sans tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “y-yes, b-boss. ’m s-sorry. Won’t h-happen again.”

Without another word, Papyrus dumped Sans onto the lumpy green couch before heading upstairs into his room and slamming the door shut.

Sans laid prone on the couch, phalanges tentatively nursing his stinging cheekbone. He shouldn’t be so surprised, he told himself, this Papyrus was just another version of his boss after all.

He hastily wiped the tears beading in his eye sockets. Now was not the time for that. He was weak and he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. He glanced around, taking in the semi-familiar scenery- the stairs, the television, the kitchen- almost a duplicate of his own living quarters…

He stumbled into the kitchen and headed to the fridge. It was the same fridge as his own at home; the only difference being that it was covered head to toe with colorful pictures and post-it notes. He stared at them with empty eyes before opening the fridge. It was nearly empty, save for some taco shells and a bag half-full of cheese. Sans’ stomach growled with frustration.

Looks like he’ll have to go out for food.

With a soft click, he closed the front door behind him and headed out. The winter air felt cool on his burning cheek. He puffed a cloud of warm air before walking towards Grill- towards Muffet’s.

The bakery/bar was as empty and desolate as the snowy landscape outside. Though this was strange- Sans always saw half a dozen patrons in the joint on screen- he couldn’t care less. It made what he was about to do easier.

He walked behind the cabinets holding the sugary food and took one out. Tentatively, he took a nervous bite. He wrinkled his face. It was sweet, sickly sweet, and it’s sugary taste overloaded his senses. But it wasn’t poisoned, he told himself as he took a second and third bite.

As he ate his fill, he turned to see the other sickly sweet treats stored on the shelves and one in particular caught his eye.

_‘A bear claw and two jelly donuts please.’_

The pastry had been this universe’s Papyrus’ usual order. Not stopping to think, he took a couple of the pasties and shoved them into a take out bag. After a second of contemplation, he took several honey condiments as well.

Armed with pastries and filled to the brim with HP, he stumbled out of the store and back to the house.

It didn’t look like Papyrus had locked the door because he was able to walk in without a fuss.

He walked up the stairs towards Papyrus’ room and began to softly knock on the door. Nervous anxiety bubbled up in him. His Papyrus would have just given him a beating and been done with it. He had no idea how this Papyrus would react. By his seventh knock, the door slammed open revealing an angry haggard Papyrus.

“What?” He growled in a shaky voice.

Sans stared up at him, eyes wide as saucers. Papyrus looked absolutely awful. There were scratch marks around his eyes and face, his hoodie was torn in a couple of places, and the tear tracks were very pronounced on his cheekbones. Behind the tall skeleton, Sans could see broken furniture and torn sheets.

Not trusting himself to speak, Sans handed Papyrus the bag full of pastries.

Papyrus accepted it with a grunt, staring into its contents, “Did you steal this?”

Sans looked down at his feet, “Does it matter?”

“Answer the question”

Sans glared at Papyrus’ sneakers, “yea.”

Papyrus frowned before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. He swiftly walked down the stairs, Sans tailing silently behind him.

When they reached the couch, Papyrus sat down and began tearing at the food. The silence was deafening. Sans felt the blood pound behind his ears. During these situations back at home with Boss, he was able to go and hide in his room for a while. Now… He had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. So he stood there, wringing his hands as he watched the other Papyrus eat.

After a long while, Papyrus spoke, “You’re really not my Sans, are you?”

He said nothing. It should be obvious. Though they had the same figure and stature (according to the screen), there were obvious differences, the teeth, the eyes, the clothes, the long crack running along his skull. No monster in their right minds would confuse the two.

“Red”

Sans raised his head in confusion, “Huh?”

Papyrus preferred to look at his food rather than at him, “I’m not gonna call you by… his name. So I’ll call you Red.”

He caught himself before he could make a snarky comment. He didn’t want another bruise joining the one on his cheek.

Finally, Papyrus looked up at him, “you look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk,” he snapped back before he could stop himself.

“My brother died,” Papyrus answered quietly, “what’s your excuse.”

“You don’t seem awfully bothered by that.”

“why should I? It’s not the first time it happened. Besides, everything’ll just reset again anyway,” Papyrus shrugged, taking a swig out of a honey bottle, “but that’s not important. Right now, I want to know who the fuck you are and what you’re doing here.”


	4. Talk

“What makes you think I’m gonna tell you?”

“Then don’t.”

“Wha?” Sans stared at him, dumbfounded. He had expected demands, hell, yelling for answers. If it were boss, he’d beat the answers outta Sans… But this Papyrus… didn’t.

“You are not obligated to tell me anything,” Papyrus took another swig, “just keep in mind, if you don’t tell me. I won’t be able to help you get back to wherever the hell you came from.”

“W-what if,” he stared down at his shoes, nerves racking at his skull, “what if I planned to be here from the start.”

“Trust me, the way things are going, you’re not gonna wanna stick around for long,” the way he chuckled brought chills down Sans’ spine, “have you seen another monster other than me since you came here?”

Sans opened his mouth then froze. No, he hadn’t seen another monster other than Papyrus since he came here. He thought about the amount of dust that littered the landscape. Thought of the vacant bakery. Just what on earth was going on?

“You change your mind about telling me?”

“The machine.”

“…You’re gonna have to elaborate,” the taller skeleton took out a pack of cigarettes and held one out, “cig?”

Sans accepted it eagerly, lighting the tip with his magic, “I’ve been working on this… Machine my former colleague imagined. It was just supposed to be a distraction. But when I finished it, it transported me here… To your dimension.”

“What do you mean, ‘dimension’? You mean, like an alternate universe?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What is yours like?”

“Hey, I want answers too! Like what the hell is going on? I thought this universe was supposed to be safe! Where are the other monsters? And how come there’s so much dust?”

Papyrus gritted his teeth, “that is none of your concern.”

At Papyrus’ cold expression, Sans instinctively flinched, “s-sorry, boss.”

Papyrus stared at him curiously, “is boss-”

“-my version of Papyrus, yeah,” he answered hastily, still looking away from the other.

He didn’t see Papyrus frown in distaste, “why does your brother make you call him boss.”

He didn’t speak, inhaling a puff of smoke.

Papyrus slumped back onto the couch, “Whatever, doesn’t really concern me,” he took a long drag out of his cig, “oh, and thanks for the food. Even though you stole it.”

Sans felt sweat accumulate on his brow bone as he stayed silent.

“Anyway, there’s a similar machine to the one you described out back,” he tossed Sans a key, “you can work on it to get you home or whatever. I’m heading to bed.”

He stood and walked up the stars, leaving Sans alone to his thoughts.


	5. Machine

This world was nothing like the soft, sweet dream displayed on screen. It was just another hell filled with pain and suffering, worse off in a way. As he walked from the house to the secret lab in the back, he noticed the dust blowing in the breeze.

Sans wondered if it was his fault, that his presence here brought misfortune to this world. Maybe, if he left, all things would return to normal. Maybe that was the true reason why this world's Papyrus wanted him gone...

He gritted his teeth. Well fuck the other Papyrus. He'd rather be back in his own universe anyway. Back in a universe where being dusted was the norm and Papyrus... Was his brother, his predictable, strong, cool younger brother who knew how to put Sans in his place...

He paused mid-step, smile growing rigid, eye sockets growing dark. Papyrus was bound to be furious and he had every right to. Sans had done something infinitely stupid and landed himself in another fucking universe, far away from his duties and obligations. He shivered. He wasn't sure if he'd survive the punishment his return promised.

But he could never abandon his baby bro.

He let out a deep sigh as he fitted the key into the lock, noting the odd creak as he slowly opened the door. It was dark, a familiar darkness. His eyes took but a moment to adjust as his hand automatically found the light switch's location and flicked it on. Slowly, bright sterile white light shone down on tiled floors as he walked.

It was a near identical complex to his own lab back at home, even including the monitor wrapped in a thick opaque plastic. Sans withdrew the plastic slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. Was this screen displaying his own universe- and let out a sigh of relief as a black motionless screen greeted him. The only signs of life seemed to be the glowing red dot at the bottom right hand corner of the monitor but Sans completely disregarded it.

  
The whole complex seemed much less used than his own. Probably because Papyrus didn't need to use it as a hideout if his brother got particularly angry. The other Sans didn't seem like the angry type.   


He withdrew the dusty old clothe from the machine, coughing as a mist of dust infected the air. He gave the machine a glance. It was far from complete, even more so than his own back when he first found the thing. But, from his experience with his own machine, he estimated that it'd be complete in less time. How long it would take, he wasn't certain.

He sighed again and began working. And he worked. And worked. He worked on the machine until his phalanges were sore from nailing in screws and attaching circuit boards. He recalled a time when he worked long hours like this. Back when Gaster was alive, the old man really worked all of them to the _bone_ -

"You really are eager to head back aren't you."

He dropped the wrench he was holding in his surprise. He grumbled, picking it up, "What's it to you?"

Papyrus went quiet for a moment as Sans resumed working. Sans took a second to glance at him. He was now wearing that dusty blue scarf around his collar and the bags under his eyes looked heavier, more pronounced. Sans shifted his gaze back to his work. It wasn't his problem.

"Why don't you take a break. Come out and have dinner with me."

Sans halted mid-screw, anger coursing through him. He placed the wrench on the table and turned to face the other, "First you drag me to your house, tell me that all this dust is none of my business and to leave this universe, now you're inviting me to dinner? Just what the hell are you playing at?"

A deafening silence followed. He instantly regretted his outburst. His papyrus would have punished him for such insolence, but this Papyrus just stood there, staring. It drove Sans crazy.

Finally, in what seemed like forever, Papyrus spoke, "if you want to join me, I'll be in the kitchen." He left without another word.

Sans wiped his face with shaky phalanges before resuming his work. However, several screws in, his non-existent stomach began to rumble incessantly. At first, he endeavored to ignore it. It wasn't the first time he worked while hungry. But as time moved on, his stomach didn't let up.

After an agonizing hour of indecision, Sans finally gave in and headed out of the lab. He shivered as he trekked back to the front door. It was no colder than it had been before but the anticipation of seeing Papyrus, any Papyrus, brought shivers down his spine. He had no idea how the other would react. Would Papyrus see him coming back as a weakness?

He swallowed his anxiety and entered the house.

He was almost relieved to see Papyrus absolutely smashed on the kitchen table, empty alcohol and honey bottles surrounding him. Besides the plate of cold tacos, Sans saw photos strewn everywhere and, on closer inspection, realized they had been the pictures on the fridge. All of them displayed the other Sans from various stages of his life, few as a child, most as an adult.

Suddenly, it was easy to ignore his non-existent stomach. He was about to turn when a firm, commanding voice stopped him in his tracks, "sit."

His body immediately complied, sitting before the plate of tacos before his mind could comprehend what Papyrus had said.

For a moment, he sat there, frozen, awaiting Papyrus' next order. When it never came, he tentatively picked up a taco and bit into it. The over-saturation of salt and tomato sauce made his face scrunch up, but it was greatly preferable to the pasties he ate hours ago. He continued to eat in silence as Papyrus watched with unfocused eyes.

Just as he was about to finish his last bite, he felt two arms wrap around him. He froze, he hadn't even seen Papyrus move. His first instinct was to struggle against the hold but, when it tightened, he went completely rigid.

"Sssaaaans," Papyrus breathed into his ear. Sans could smell the alcohol on his breath. Fear shot through him like lightning and he began to struggle anew, but the grip was too tight and he could barely move.

"Baby bro, why don't you ever _listen_ ," Papyrus' voice broke as he buried his face into Sans' chest. Sans felt an uncomfortable wetness beginning to seep through his shirt. He sat still, unsure of what to do as Papyrus sobbed silently. He never saw any emotion other than anger or apathy on his Papyrus. Seeing this monster, a monster with the same face as his younger, sadistic brother, _crying_... Hell, this was just so _fucking insane!_

So he sat there, allowing Papyrus to sob into him. He wondered if his Papyrus would miss him as much when he realized Sans was gone. He dismissed the notion.

"Bo- P-papyrus..." He began shakily, setting a hand awkwardly on the crown of the other's skull. Suddenly, as if some spell had lifted, his brother's copy abruptly let go of him and stood up.

"Sorry," he whispered as he staggered away from Sans and out of the kitchen.

Sans watched him leave with weary eyes before turning back to the table, the table covered with memories and alcohol.

"Not bothered by his brother's death my ass," he muttered under his breath.


	6. Breakfast

Sans woke up and nearly tumbled out of the couch. Argh, the couch, why was he sleeping on the couch? Boss hated it when Sans slept on the couch. Maybe this was one of the rare days where he left Sans alone... At least, for now.

He sat up, putting a shaky hand to his skull. Shit, what time was it? How come boss didn't wake him up yet? Did he wake up earlier than boss? He smiled to himself. Good, that meant he could perform the morning tasks without Papyrus breathing down his neck.

He stood up, mulling over the duties in his head.

First, he had to make breakfast spaghetti _don't add too much salt or Boss would get aggravated_ , then he'd clean out the pot and do the dishes _remember to do this step because last time he forgot, the punishment he'd received left him limping for two weeks_ , go to sentry duty _straight to sentry duty, no detours, don't know if Papyrus was watching_ -

He opened the fridge door and scanned its contents. It was filled to the brim with food- what the hell? Was that a _taco shell_? Sure Boss would crave weird foods from time to time but this was-

He flinched when he heard a loud thump coming from upstairs. Fuck. Boss was awake, that gave him 30 minutes to prepare everything.

Quickly, he nabbed the necessary raw materials- noodles, tomatoes, meatballs, sauce, oregano- then he took out the pot, poured water into it, and began cooking the noodles. He busied himself, meticulous with every step of the process. It had to be perfect. Boss wouldn't settle for less.

He had just platted the noodles just as he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned, "hey, boss-" and nearly dropped the plate of spaghetti.

The skeleton standing behind him was not boss. His brother's copy looked haggard, tired, holding his skull in a hand. He was still wearing that dusty blue scarf around his collar, some dust sticking to bleached white neck bone. His reddened eye sockets were wide, shining with what looked akin to hope before it darkened into something Sans knew all too well, disappointment.

Suddenly the memories from the day before came flooding back to him. The machine, the dust, the tacos, the photos- "P-p-papyrus?"

It felt weird to say the name. It had been forbidden to him for so long that he flinched as he said it, expecting a blow that never came.

If the other Papyrus noticed, he didn't seem to care. He just took out a cigarette and puffed a smoke before stumbling over to the kitchen table.

Sans hurriedly sat the plate next to Papyrus before sitting down opposite him... In front of the photos and empty alcohol bottles. Sans flinched as the other Papyrus snatched up the photos and pocketed them, "up awful early aren't ya?"

Sans said nothing in response.

His brother's copy looked down at the plate set out before him, "how come you only made one plate of spaghetti? Don't you want some too?"

He paused, soul clogged in throat, "I'm fine... I don't usually eat in the mornings. Boss... Boss doesn't really..." He trailed off, not knowing how to complete that sentence.

Papyrus closed his mouth with a firm clank. Quietly, almost dangerously, he spoke, "get me another plate."

Sans hurried to meet the command, nearly tripping over his feet as he delivered the plate to his brother's copy. Papyrus received it with slow grace, throwing several glances up at Sans as he did so. He took a fork and dumped three quarters on the extra plate before handing it to Sans.

Sans looked at him oddly, noting the larger portion size.

"I'm not really hungry," Papyrus muttered in way of explanation.

Well, he wasn't about to reject food. He accepted it carefully before eagerly tearing into his meal. He was so caught up in his own food that he didn't notice Papyrus begin eating.

"'s good."

Sans paused mid-bite. Did Boss- Did Papyrus just complement his cooking? Maybe he misheard, but-

"Really good."

Sans flushed, nearly choking on his noodles, a small smile twitching on unwilling lips. He swallowed it quickly and glanced up, hoping Papyrus didn't notice- Papyrus was watching him with an unreadable expression. He flushed further and tried to hide his embarrassment by stuffing down more food.

Sans could feel Papyrus' eyes on him, watching him as he raised a shaky fork to his mouth. He stared at his noodles, his stomach making backflips, and realized that he wasn't hungry anymore. He turned his attention to Papyrus, about to say something,  _anything_ to ease the tension in his gut- when he heard the sound of a chair scraping on tiled floor.

"Thanks... For the food."

He looked up to see Papyrus stumbling out of the room. A little while later, he heard uneven stomping up the stairs and a loud slam of a door. The knots in his stomach loosened.

Sans sat there at the table. He couldn't help but feel... Lost. He had no plans, no obligations for the day. Hell, his brother's copy probably wouldn't care if he slept the entire day.

That really wasn't a bad idea.

Just a few minutes though. A few minutes and he'll go back to the lab and work on the machine. For now, he was just gonna take a short nap. He got out of the kitchen and curled onto the couch, mind growing hazy with sleep. Just a few minutes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of my chapters. If I wrote longer chapters, I won't be able to pump them out so fast. Cuz you know, life.


	7. Dream

He stared off into the snowy landscape, forgetting why he came here…

He walked forward as if some invisible force pushed him. He came across a snowy path and was compelled to follow it. Why the hell-

He saw something partially covered by dark snow. It was shifting in the frosted wind-

His eye sockets widened. _no_.

He ran, completely disregarding the snow he was kicking up in his wake. _no, it couldn’t be, it was too soon-_

He knelt, shaky phalanges scooping up the dust and the weathered scarf.

He heard a wailing sound. It was familiar. He made that sound each and every time he held his brother’s remains in his hands.

A high pitched giggle chimed to his left.

His head snapped towards the noise and suddenly, his surroundings change. He was in the judgement hall. The orange and yellow tiles shone glaringly bright in the imitation sunlight. He shaded his eyes for a second and.. _They're_ there. Smiling that awful fucking smile.

He put a hand to his chest, feeling the dark liquid pouring out of him.

He knelt, vision fading to darkness…

And awoke in a gush of cold sweat. He heaved in heavy breaths as he resolutely stared down at his exposed feet. One, two, three… Breathe in, breathe out…

He managed to calm his pulsing soul… only to have it jump into his throat when he noticed the tall figure looming over him. He could feel his anxiety flare up, clogging his non-existent throat. Fuck. Fuck. He was having a panic attack, oh god, he was having a panic attack in front of Boss and he was completely in for it now.

Sans shied away from the outstretched hand, eye sockets resolutely closed shut, “s-s-sorry B-boss. I didn’t mean to-”

A sudden realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he snapped his eye sockets open. A orange hoodie was attached to the outstretched hand... a fucking orange hoodie-

He slapped the arm out of his face, repercussions be damned, “ _Get the fuck away from me!_ ”

Papyrus- _the other Papyrus_ \- quickly stepped back, hand returning to his hoodie pocket.

Sans stared at him for a moment, dazed and confused. Was the other Papyrus there the whole time, watching Sans _in his sleep?_ Why would he-

A red scarf blowing idle in frosted wind pulled him out of his thoughts.

He scrambled out of the couch and stumbled to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Where are you-"

He didn't stop to hear the words as he trudged into the snow, pulling up his zipper to shield himself from the wind. _No, boss couldn't be dead. He saw no signs of the human before he got trapped here..._

Then again, this universe was collapsing by the minute. Who knew what could be happening at the other side...

His hand flew to the door and slammed it open. The lab was as quiet and still as he had left it. He heard footsteps trail in behind him, but he didn't care. His pupils were transfixed on the dark monitor screen with its blinking red light. It was working, if the red light had anything to indicate, but it wasn't displaying anything. There was no keyboard, no mouse- And where was this thing plugged into? He never figured it out in his own universe-

He tapped his finger on the black screen. No change. Huh, why did he think that would work-

"Here, allow me."

He couldn't help but flinch as long lanky fingers swept by past him and pressed a couple of buttons by the side of the monitor. The screen came to life and displayed-

His Papyrus, in the flesh. He was smiling a wicked smile as he smashed the face of some dog monster- lesser dog? No, lesser dog was completely white. This one had spots. If only he could- into dust.

He shivered- from relief or fear, he did not know- as Papyrus wiped the dust off his gloves.

"This is... Your universe?"

He flinched, hard. He was so enthralled in boss's actions that he'd completely forgotten that the other Papyrus stood right behind him. He opened his dry mouth, "yeah..."

A stifling silence followed.

Sans began to feel sweat beading across his forehead. Trying to break the tension, he let out a shaky laugh as he turned to face the other, "Hey... Uh, this is no big deal. That's a small mercy in comparison to what he does to me-"

"I know."

He snapped his jaw shut, staring at his brother's copy, bewildered. The other Papyrus' eyes were fixed on the screen, mandible clamped in a tight grimace. He looked ready to murder, "and you want to go back... To this? To him?"

"Of course," Sans said automatically, "he's my brother."


	8. Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot! The wonderful Artistcone (aka ...) drew some fan drawing of the first chapter! Made me so happy! Here's the link: http://anonartistcone.tumblr.com/post/144932675332

"Of course. He's my brother."

Papyrus turned away from the monitor to face the smaller skeleton with a look of sheer incredulity, "Brother? What kind of _brother_ forces his brother to call him boss?"

Sans brought his hands up in defense, "Well… my brother is _technically_ my boss-”

"Or forces his brother to wear a collar and drags him around on a leash?"

He subconsciously tugged at the red leather collar around his neck, feeling the perspiration beginning to bead on his forehead, "He doesn't always-"

"Or better yet," Papyrus was shouting at this point, disgust and rage heavy in his voice, " _fucks his own brother_ and then _mercilessly beats him to hell_ afterwards-"

Sans felt his face flush, "SHUT THE FUCK UP! You- in your bright cotton candy world- You have no fucking idea what we have to go through- What _he_ has to go through to keep us alive! In my world, it's kill or be killed. I'm lucky to have such a strong younger brother-"

“That gives your brother no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit-”

“Boss has Every. Fucking. Right to treat me like a piece of shit! Because I am a piece of shit!” He spat out, red fire blazing in his eyes, “It's my fault he’s the way he is! It was my fault! It was my fault! I didn’t… I couldn’t-” He choked on his next words, "he's... he's all I have..."

There was a brief moment of silence before a loud snap could be heard through the monitor.

Papyrus approached him, hand outstretched, “Red-"

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He yelled, instinctively taking a step back.

Before Papyrus could say another word, he teleported out of the lab and into a flood of snow. So... he was outside. That was great. He walked, not caring where he was going.

He wrapped the hoodie around his skull, welcoming the little warmth it brought. He walked, passing the odd puzzle or pile of dust... The whole landscape was littered with dust.

He wasn't surprised when he came upon the large oak door. When the lab frustrated him to no end, he'd wander to this door, wondering what laid beyond its ornate walls. Now, it was a familiar fixture in an otherwise unfamiliar world. Almost instinctively, he raised his hand to knock-

"I wouldn’t try that, he's probably dead.”

He snapped his head around and glared at his brother's copy. The taller skeleton wore a resigned worn look. He sighed, dragging the cigarette out of his mouth with a puff, "Look, I'm sorry. What I said was probably outta line. I mean, I have no idea what your universe is like and all. I'm one to judge right, I mean," he waved his free hand in the air, "my universe practically gone to shit."

Red chuckled softly before twisting his smile into a frown, "you know... Me and my bro... We don't have the healthiest of relationships-" he didn't miss the small cough Papyrus made, "but I can't... I can't leave him..."

“Yeah, I get that… the same’s with me an’ my bro-” He bowed his skull, “was…”

“Hey… Your brother… he seemed… nice.”

“He sure was handful at times."

"Yeah, kinda reminds me of my brother when he was younger-" He paused when he saw Papyrus' face scrunch up, "hey! Don't give me that look! My bro wasn't always-" he looked down at his feet, "the way he is..."

A long contemplative silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the wailing of the wind and snow.

Papyrus flicked off his cigarette butt and stamped out the light with the sole of his shoe, "You know what I need? A long stiff drink. Care to join?"

Sans chuckled nervously, "where will we go?"

"Muffet's, of course," he extended a hand out to Sans.

He eyed it with thinly veiled suspicion before timidly accepting the offer.

They appeared within the warm walls of the pastry bar. The first thing to hit his nose was the sickly sweet odor of stale pastries and caramelized fruits. He wrinkled his face, recalling the overly tooth-rotting taste of the sweets, "are you sure this is a good idea?"

Papyrus quickly stepped behind the counter, "you sound pretty timid for a guy who broke in here just the day before."

Sans sat down at a nearby booth, "yeah but I don't plunder the same place twice."

"That's a strange ritual," the other muttered while shuffling through the cabinets.

"It's common sense. You'd be more conspicuous if you steal from the same place twice."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that here. 'Sides the whole goddamn place is gonna reset anyway.” he grabbed a bottle and pulled the cork before turning around to face Sans, “what are you doing over there? Come here and try some of this!”

Grumbling, Sans hopped off the stool and walked over, accepting the bottle from Papyrus and took a swig before spitting out the contents, "ugh! Is this... Candy liquor?

Papyrus popped the cork out of another, “only the best!”

He sighed as he placed the remainder on the bar, “Do you have anything in this establishment that is not laced with sugar?”

“Weelll…” Papyrus shifted through bottles, “This… should be good,” he uncorked the bottle and handed it to Sans.

Without a second glance, Sans downed the bottle, feeling the welcoming fire of the alcohol overwhelm the mild sugar sweetness from the last drink. He sighed contentedly as he dropped the empty bottle on the bar top, “Pahh! That is what I'm talking about! Get me another!”

Papyrus smirked, tossing another bottle to Sans.

“Thanks,” Sans muttered as he sat down next to the bar. He downed his bottle several gulps at a time. It didn’t take long for him to feel the affects. Soon, he felt more at ease then he felt in a long time. And man, did it feel good. He hadn’t been this drunk since- he choked on his next bottle.

Papyrus frowned, walking over to him, “is something wrong?”

“Nah s’nothing,” Sans sighed, resting his chin on the bar top.

Papyrus sat down opposite to him a dug out a box of smokes, “want one?”

Sans reached his hand out before he stopped himself, “Y-You’re being awfully nice.”

“Well, there’s no point in being mean when we’ve both been dealt with a shitty hand,” he retracted his offer and set the box down before raising his bottle to Sans, “To the shithole that is our lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What! It's been like, three weeks? It can't have been that long I mean I remembered I posted the last chapter a day ago... But seriously guys, sorry for the long wait. I've been having terrible writer's block for this story and I've written this chapter quite a few times. I hate making promises but... promise I wouldn't take so long with the next one.


	9. Mistake

“Amen,” Sans drank without prompting, emptying yet another bottle.

“Woah, I think you should slow down there buddy,” Papyrus said with a small smile.

“Why? S’like you said, s’all gonna reset anyway,” Sans answered.

Papyrus suddenly grew quiet, staring at his uncorked bottle. The taller skeleton looked at Sans dead in the eyes, “How much do you know about… the resets?”

Sans stared into the contents of the half full bottle before him, “‘nough to know it’s the kid who does it, though before it was that stupid flower...”

Papyrus nodded, eyelights never leaving Sans, “Do you know how to stop it?”

“Stop wha?”

“The resets.”

“no.”

“worth a shot,” Papyrus sighed, “tell me something.”

“About what?”

“How come you aren’t like… well…”

“As twisted and fucked up as the rest of ‘my universe’?”

“... Yeah.”

“Hey, just because I can’t get one over Boss, doesn’t mean I’m a saint… that happens to be Frisk.”

Papyrus nearly dropped his bottle, “Who?”

“Frisk, ya know, the human? Heh, though they’d never admit it. That kid is too good for this world…” He stared into his glass bottle, “Was…”

“What… What do you mean?”

“I-It’s a long story.”

Papyrus laid his chin on crossed arms, “We have all the time in the world, tell me.”

Sans looked off to the side, “Well… have you ever reached the surface? In one reset or another?”

Papyrus grew very still, “No.”

“Well, we have… And it was Frisk who got us all out. Heh, crazy I know, but that kid… was not like any kid I’ve ever met.”

Sans took another long swig before he continued, “Frisk was… _merciful_. They had the power to kill every monster in the underground, but they didn’t. Even when the monsters tried their damndest to kill them, they just… spared them. It’s really strange and hard to describe but every monster Frisk spared began to change. Become less hostile. Even Boss was more merciful towards others and that is saying something. Of course, I was the only one unaffected…”

“How come?”

“Well, I dunno, I think it had to do with me being able to see timelines. I mean, I saw the times where Frisk failed and died, but the strange thing was- they were able to come back. I thought that those might have been weird dreams at first but-”

“You figured that those weren’t dreams but alternate timelines in which the human actually died.”

“Yeah- yeah, something like that, how do you-”

Papyrus frowned, “I… I have that… condition too, but anyway, continue.”

“Ok… so the kid managed to get us all out, the king and queen got back together, and we built a new city in the bottom of the mountain. Things were going great until-” Sans paused, staring down at his hands.

After a second of silence, Papyrus spoke up, “Until?”

“Something happened,” His eyelights flickered out, “and Papyrus was killed.”

Papyrus stared at those blank eye sockets, mouth going dry, “What happened?”

“I don't- I can't-” Sans gasped, breathing rapidly, “I couldn’t- I couldn’t…”

Papyrus held out his hands as if he was trying to pacify a small frightened animal, "It's ok, you don't have to talk about it if you don't feel comfortable."

The smaller skeleton held his skull in his hands, “I couldn’t live without him… so I went to Frisk…”  
\--------

_”Please! It’s Papyrus! You have to do something!”_

_The human wiped the tears from their eyes, “I’m sorry, Sans. I can’t-”_

_“Bullshit! I’ve seen you do it countless times! Don’t fucking lie to me!”_

_“Sans… please..." fear shown bright in their eyes, "I can't- There's a reason why I don't- you can't ask that of me-"_

_“No. No. NO! YOU WILL RESET! YOU WILL BRING HIM BACK TO ME!”_

\------------

“I knew… I knew something wasn't quite right... that they... that there was something they weren't telling me, but I was so torn with grief and anger and g-” Sans paused before he hurriedly continued, “that I couldn’t listen to reason. So I decided… If they weren’t going to reset. I was going to make them reset.”

“I killed them. I killed and tortured them, over and over and over until, finally, they complied and they brought us all back.”

He could feel Papyrus’ eyes boring holes into him, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was finally confessing someone who could understand after all these years, but he couldn’t stop, “I woke up back in the underground… and I found him. Same as ever. Yelling at me to go do my fucking job... I was so relieved.”

“But Frisk… Frisk wasn’t the same…” He swallowed before continuing, “Instead of mercy, Frisk… killed… Over and over. I tried to stop them… but I couldn’t. They’d just reset and start anew.”

“Then I noticed something else… the monsters around me started to change, growing more and more hostile… My brother got the worst of it… He began doing things he’d never do before… Dusting monsters left and right just because he could… only I stayed somewhat sane…” His laughter sounded hollow to his own ears, “I guess that’s my punishment... I’ve never been able to convince them to put aside that blade… no matter how many times I killed them…”

He held his hands to his chest, shakily recalling the dream from a few hours before, “But one day they vanished, just like that, they were gone… And I’ve been stuck in that hellhole… before I came here.”

For the first time in a long time, Sans looked up to the other Papyrus. The skeleton was staring at him with an unusually sober expression- Huh, did Sans see the other monster actually drink anything- He shook his dazed skull and looked back up at the other, “I know what you are going to say… What I did was wrong. A mistake. But if I could go back, I’d do it all again.”

Papyrus said nothing, only stared at him with that unreadable expression as Sans drank himself unconscious.


	10. Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had deleted this with the intention of fixing it but, after some thought and rereading, I've decided to keep it the same. It might be confusing but I feel that it puts across what I had in mind. Sorry for the inconvenience. u_u;;

_“Boss? Why are you packing? Goin’ on some great adventure?”_

_His brother didn’t look up from his packing, “Yes actually.”_  
  
_“Oh? Where are we going this time?”_

_His brother paused, “You’re not coming.”_

He jolted awake, letting out a low groan as he felt a sharp pain throb at the back of his skull. He winced, knowing to keep his eye sockets shut. Ugh, he raised a hand to his throbbing skull. How long ago had he had his last drink? What happened last night? Papyrus is gonna be so pissed-

He groaned as the jumbled memories of the past night’s events caught up to him. He was at a bar, talking with Boss- No, no, he was talking with _another_ Papyrus. He wasn’t in his own world. There was booze involved. And… what were they talking about? Something-

He cried out as a sharp pain seared through his skull. In a feeble attempt to soothe the pain, he wrapped his arms around his head, clenching his shark teeth together. Eventually, the pain subsided enough for him to dare to open his eyes a crack.

He was in stark darkness. Thank the stars. He opened his eyes wider to take in his surroundings. A television, a coffee table, the kitchen to the right, the stairs to the left- He was back in the house. In the house that looked exactly like his. On a couch that felt exactly like his.

Huhh…  
  
He fumbled in the couch cushions. If his theory was correct, then there might be a- Aha! A small white bottle rattled triumphantly in his bony grasp. It looked identical to the one he stashed at home and, more importantly, held identical small white pills. He took two out and swallowed them dry before laying back down and waiting for the pills to take full effect. He closed his eye sockets-

 _“What do you mean- Are you leaving without me?”_  
  
_“Sans-”_

_Fear blazed through his gut, he could barely get his next words out, “Are you finally getting rid of me?”_

_“Sans- listen, this isn’t about you- Listen… The human…  they opened my eyes to the torture I’ve put you through all these years-”_

_“No! Boss! All you’ve ever done was-”_

His eyes flew open. He put shaky phalanges to his head. No. He couldn’t remember this. He thought he was past remembering. The countless bottles, the restless nights… those were all behind him. Maybe what he needed was a distraction, something to take his mind off of things, something like- The machine! He could work on the machine. Solving two puzzles with one piece.

Sans stumbled off the couch and out the front door, the cool bright morning chilling him out of his post-drink stupor. He closed his throbbing eyes, enjoying the chill before stepping out into the snow.

He looked at the snowy landscape as he trudged and couldn’t help but feel so alone.

_“Boss! You can’t do this!”_

_Papyrus stopped and turned to face him, “Sans… I told you to stop calling me that… Don’t you see? This is a new chance for us! A big change from the old.”_

_He doesn’t want change. He doesn’t want this new world. He was happy being his brother’s servant. His brother’s slave.  
_

_Maybe he had to remind his brother. Remind him of who he truly was…  
_

_Red fire blazed in Sans’ left eye as red bones sprung up around him. He slowly raised a shaking hand and aimed for his brother’s back. Just enough to hurt him but not kill him. Just enough to keep him here with-_

He slammed the door open and was surprised to find the other Papyrus staring at the monitor screen, not facing him. He approached hesitantly, looking around the other’s back to view the screen.

His brother was on patrol, a thin sheen of dust already coating the impressive black battle body he always wore.

Sans was unsure whether it was appropriate to sigh with relief or tremble with fear so he opted to do neither and turned away-

“How different are you from your brother?”

Sans paused mid-step, “Excuse me?”

“The human couldn’t have been your first,” His brother’s copy continued quietly, _dangerously_ , “How many came before them? How different are you from your brother-”

“What are you-”

“Or the human?” Papyrus completed.

Sans backed up till his hoodie brushed against the wall, feeling a keen sense of foreboding, “P-Papyrus?”

“You are a killer just-” White and orange bones materialized around him, “like-” large monstrous skulls appeared on either side, burning light shone brightly in their widening jaws,  “them.”

Sans widened his eyes, fear springing him into action. He teleported out just as a barrage of blue bones sprang towards him- to the outskirts of the lab.

He was breathing in quick shallow breaths, tears streaming down his eyes. This was no time for a panic attack; against his protesting legs, he stumbled forward, teleporting sporadically to hide his-

_-tracks. Boss was not far behind._

_Shit! He shouldn’t have pushed him this far! All he wanted to do was to distract him from leaving-_

_Papyrus was furious, red fire blazing in his eyes as he scanned for Sans._

_If Sans could get far enough away-_

He crumbled to his feet to dodge the beam of orange energy that shot past him. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK! There was no time to plead. There was no time to think. All he could do was-

The tall ornate door stood, facing him. He stared at it’s large ornate walls recalling the feeling of safety he felt just yesterday- the feeling he didn't feel now.

He turned to face the lone figure standing in the shadows of the trees. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this-

_he didn’t want to-_

_His brother sent another barrage of sharpened bones, not caring about Sans’ one hp, “Is this what you wanted, you little shit? Has the human taught you nothing?”_

_Sharp bones appeared all around Sans. He swallowed thickly, staring at his brother with tears in his eyes, “bro…”_

_Papyrus glared down at him coldly, “You don’t deserve mercy.”_

He jumped aside just as a wave of bones crashed into the door, only to feel a sharp ping grab at his soul before he could flee. He cried out as he was lifted above the ground and slammed into cold icy walls.

He could feel his only hp draining with each attack. If he didn’t act soon… he’d be dust.

_Fear shook uncontrollably through him as he teleported away from the oncoming attack. His brother really meant to dust him._

He raised his arm. It had to be quick so the other wouldn’t see it, so it’ll make it’s mark. Just enough to incapacitate, not fully harm-

_He saw his brother silhouetted in the frost. Red flaming eye glaring at him without mercy._

He extended his hand to summon a long shard of bone, aiming for the soul and fired

_-at his brother’s one hp. One hp? His eyes widened._

The figure did not step aside from the attack like Sans had thought he would. Instead, he did not move a muscle, opening his arms to receive the-

_-approaching bone attack cut straight through Papyrus’ soul._

He screamed, “BROTHER!”


	11. Grief

“NO! No! Nononononono!” he scrambled towards the motionless form, “PAPYRUS! Papyrus! Papyrus! Stay with me! I can't lose you!”

he scrambled, trying to find a soul to heal-

_It was small, nearly bleached white, so small, so fragile-_

It was a dull faint orange, still alive. Still barely alive.

“Please, baby bro,” He poured all he had into the tiny fragile soul, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! PLEASE!”

- _only for it to crumble to dust in his hands. he cried, he screamed, desperately grasping onto what remained of his brother before it too turned to dust-_

He sobbed with relief when the soul began to repair itself; it’s orange honey color now glowing with renewed life. He held the body close and transported them back- to the living room.

With his magic gingerly encompassing the other Papyrus’ soul, he laid the unconscious monster gently onto the couch. Only then did he let himself relax into a crumpled heap, his breathing coming out in short gasps as tears blurred his vision. He had almost done it… again. He clawed at his eye sockets, choking on his pain, self-loathing tearing through him-

“Why… why did you spare me…”

The voice was quiet, hoarse, defeated, nothing like Boss- hell, not even this Papyrus was supposed to sound like this.

Sans looked up from his miserable stance, when the thought hit him, “You... You bastard... You planned this... You wanted me to- to-”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t acknowledge it. Saying it would have made it real. Saying it would have made it happen when he had successfully drowned it out so long ago-

“I'm sorry” the voice replied in that same ugly tone.

“Why?!”

“I can't do this anymore. This isn't the first time the kid… the human decided to... Countless times,” He turned away from Sans, “I just want to see my brother again…”

“And you wanted me to-” Sans grabbed either side of his skull, “to- to- kill you?”

Papyrus chuckled hoarsely, “That was the plan.”

He couldn’t speak. Too overwhelmed by the notion that Papyrus had wanted- that he had chosen to- that-, “If you wanted to then why did you try to make me do it, you coward?”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?”

He stared at the other with wide eyes, as Papyrus lifted his hoodie to reveal the scarred soul beneath. He hadn’t see it clearly the first time, too distracted by the feelings of loss to register how unnaturally scarred the soul was. Some cuts were deep enough to kill.

“It doesn't work. I've tried. Guess I am too determined to die," he chuckled bitterly, "besides... this isn’t… It's not the first time the human… came to our world… Sometimes, there are long gaps when they don’t come… this time it lasted a year… a blessed year... but they always… always...” He covered his face with the palm of his hands, “come back…”

Sans grew silent as he watched grief overtake the other skeleton, his fist clenching and unclenching. The bastard! How dare he-

A choked sob broke him out of his angry stupor. He watched the trembling shoulders, the shuttering breaths, and suddenly, he saw his baby brother again. The baby brother that cried when he was left alone in the dark, when he heard loud sounds, when he saw Sans getting hurt.

Before Sans could register what he was doing, he walked over to his brother's mirror and wrapped his arms around the other. It was stunted, awkward- he'd never dare do this with his own brother- and Papyrus stiffened in his grasp, but when Sans began to hum tunelessly, rubbing soothing circles along the taller skeleton's vertebra, Papyrus slowly began to relax against him.

Sans flinched hard as two long arms wrapped around his middle, stiffening as he felt the other's damp skull clank against his shoulder.

_This isn't your brother._ He silently reminded himself, _this isn't your Papyrus-_

Yet, he couldn't relax, couldn't feel comfortable against a body shaped so closely to Boss, against a body associated with so much pain. He felt every movement, every brush of bone against him, every inhale and exhale the other skeleton made.

So he laid there, frozen, stuck between wanting to run and wanting to curl up into a ball to protect himself from the inevitable-

"Thank you," a low voice whispered softly in his ear.

Tears sprung out unbidden from Sans' eye sockets. His brother never thanked him for anything. Always took without asking. His wages, his meals, his very life- To hear someone that sounded like his brother- _felt_ like his brother- saying those words that he didn't deserve to hear-

He froze when he felt long fingers performing the same careful mensurations on his spine. Sans felt the sudden urge to laugh.

Here they were, two skeletons trapped in a broken, twisted world, trying to comfort each other against the inevitable.

What fools they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Fluff! I'm sure it's not the kind you're looking for at the moment but the fluff is real!

**Author's Note:**

> A penny for your thoughts!


End file.
